Show me Love
by mdc
Summary: B and F meet as kids. ... It's all I got. So far. Ignore the title by the way; I was desperate.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** This is kinda an experiment. All story-teller like. I was trying to go with "deep old british male voice".

**Summary:** Blah. I have no idea where this is going. I just wanted to explore the cuteness of a kid Faith and Buffy together. But this chapter's just a prologue of sorts so you got screwed. It's boring too. In my opinion anyways.

**Feedback: **Tell me what ya think cuz I'm seriously doubting continuing this annoying little piece of crap.

It's a peaceful Monday morning in the streets of Sunnydale. The sun is just beginning to peek out in the horizon and the sky is painted a beautiful blush pink, gently pushing away the rich dark purple and blue.

The people of Sunnydale are waking, and not minding it one bit. Life is good in the small California town and its inhabitants look forward to the new day.

But then, a familiar noise starts fluttering at the edge of our awareness.

What's that?

It seems to be a soft rumbling... As we turn our eyes to the outskirts of the waking town, we see it.

It's a car.

Now, although Sunnydale may not be the most modern of towns, rest assured that cars are not all that surprising.

This particular vehicle, however, seems out of place. It leaves a trail of dirty smoke in its path and it doesn't seem to be the safest of automobiles. The speed in which it is approaching seems rather unusual.

Especially in Sunnydale.

Let it be known that the residents of this fine town, are very conscientious about road safety.

And although the quickly approaching car could be called many things, conscientious about road safety, would not be one of them.

As the inhabitants of the cozy homes lining the streets fetch their newspapers, make breakfast and gently awake their children from slumber, the black rickety car jangles along.

Those who enjoy a morning run, look up at the strange new appearance and follow the car with their curious eyes as it drives past them.

Indeed, the good people of Sunnydale are curious by nature and the new arrival to their town is not fascinating as of yet. But surely, strange.

A screeching noise, causes the people of Revello Drive to peek out their windows.

And lo and behold, the mysterious car has stopped.

A shadow can be made out in the dark vehicle. The driver seems to be glancing at the empty seat next to her. The back, however, is filled with boxes.

Ah!

One could animate this moment with a light bulb appearing above ones head.

This must be the new neighbor!

The new arrival is unmoving. It would even seem as if these seconds of silence were there to peak the curiosity even further.

And then, as the car door opens, the residents of Revello Drive receive a glimpse of the newest addition to their community.

A dark-haired woman, her slight curls cascading around her face, steps out of the car.

Let us pause here for a moment and take a closer look.

The first thing one would notice, is indeed the woman's hair.

Her hair is voluminous and a rich dark brown, it reaches just beneath her shoulders and is pulled back by a head-band.

The second thing the observer would notice, is the extremely tight clothing.

The mysterious woman has a slim body, and her clothing seems to accentuate every curve. What a sight for the good, but rather conservative people of Sunnydale!

The woman wears faded light blue jeans that would comfortably fit a ten-year old. The black high heels on her feet, are planted rather shakily on the ground beneath her.

The worn black leather jacket around her shoulders seems to fit her perfectly.

As we rest our eyes on her face, one would say the leather jacket was even redundant.

Between her dark red painted lips dangles a cigarette, and her eyes are covered by a huge pair of sunglasses.

My, my, perhaps things are about to be shaken up in this quiet little town?

As the woman slams the car door closed, a little head pops up from the other seat.

What's this? The woman's not alone.

Behind the car window, we see the face of a child.

And what a beautiful child it is!

The little girl presses her small palms against the glass and looks at her environment apprehensively.

She rubs in her eyes and slowly opens the door.

The woman, who we can only presume is the little girl's mother, seems to be an impatient character.

While any other person would find it impossible to refrain from hugging the little girl who carefully climbs out of the car, the woman simply opens the trunk.

And then at the same moment, two young children get reprimanded.

"Buffy, honey, get away from the window and get dressed. Mommy's fixed breakfast." A gentle voice.

A loving father and a curious child.

"Faith, quit slacking off and help me get this shit outta the trunk." A not so gentle voice.

An impatient mother and a sleepy child.

As the tiny brunette pads over to her irate mother, she looks up to find a little blonde looking at her from the next door window.

Their eyes lock for barely two seconds and both resume to their given tasks almost immediately.

Neither of them will remember this rather trivial moment in the years to come.

But it was the first time they looked at their soul mate.


	2. Same street, different worlds

Author's Note: Aha! I think I figured out why writing this is so difficult and annoying! Wanna know? ... Wait for it... It's cuz I'm not old and male and British! And I have to force myself in that state of mind which is really not working so basically I'm faking all the way through! Woohoo. So... maybe that wasn't the best thing to say as a writer.

As Buffy walks into the kitchen, she is picked up by two strong arms and placed on Hanks lap.

The little girl squeals as her father nuzzles her face with his unshaven one.

"Hank, don't tease her!" Joyce, the gentle mother steps up to save her daughter.

What an endearing picture of a loving family.

A chuckling Hank seats Buffy next to him as Joyce places a pancake on everyone's plate.

"Papa, did you see?" A chubby little finger points towards the window.

It would seem that our little voyeur is very excited about the new neighbors.

"Yes, sweetie, we'll go greet them this afternoon." Hank takes a bite from his blueberry pancake and smiles warmly at his wife.

"I wanna greet now." Buffy frowns in disappointment and proceeds to pout at her parents.

And what a formidable pout it is!

As you know, most children learn to handle this weapon at a young age. Some even learn to hone and perfect it.

Little Buffy seems to be quite adept at using her facial expression against her parents.

But although her grown father can now be seen squirming in his seat and her mother pretends to be fascinated by the dishes, her wish is quite impossible at this time.

"I'm sorry, baby, but we can't. We should probably let them settle in first. Get their bearings." Hank pats his daughters head.

Buffy's big green eyes widen at his words.

"They have bears??!"

Her parents laugh heartedly at her exclamation, to the small child's utter dismay.

She's seven years old, darn it! When will her parents start treating her like an adult?

Joyce recovers from her laughter first.

"No, honey, 'get your bearings' means to get used to some place new." She wipes the crumbles from around her daughter's mouth.

Buffy scrunches her face into what she believes is her best 'adult-face'.

"Knew that." She huffs.

Let us now leave this endearing scene for the time being to check up on our new arrivals.

Ah, they're inside the house, together with the contents of the car.

The hallway is littered with boxes.

The living room is furnished but ghostly, for all the furniture is covered in white sheets.

We hear some noise coming from the kitchen and if we listen closer, we would clearly hear a cursing woman.

...Something about coffee?

Ah, I see.

We enter the kitchen to see the mother struggling with a coffee machine.

"Goddamn, piece of shit, just fucking work you little fucker."

Oh, my.

This isn't language for a child to hear.

Where is our beautiful little Faith?

"Faith!" The mother seems to be searching for her also.

"Faith, what the fuck did you do with the fucking coffee machine?"

Perhaps it wouldn't be best for the girl to be found by her mother.

As the agitated woman scans the hallway, we notice one of the boxes moving.

Thankfully, the mother sees nothing out of the ordinary and strides up the stairs.

The carton box is big. Big enough to fit a little girl even.

As we peer inside it, our assumptions are confirmed.

On top of all the unruly packed clothes, a little Faith is seen clutching her knees.

Oh no, she doesn't seem happy at all.

Yet, she is not tearful. It would seem as if she's used to her mothers outbursts.

Faith is tired, and she quietly dozes off, curled in a box with clothes.

She puts her thumb in her mouth unconsciously and mumbles something.

What's that?

"Fuck."

Oh, my.

Well, as we observe our two small neighbors, it would seem they have completely different living environments.

As seven-year old Buffy waves her father off to work, six-year old Faith is huddled in a box of clothes, hiding from the wrath of her caffeine depraved mother.

The meeting of these two families would be quite a sight to see, I'm sure.

This afternoon, they will meet.

This afternoon, will be a moment both the little girls will remember for the rest of their lives.

Don't expect them to admit that, though.

But it was the moment they met their soul mate.


	3. 3:12PM

**Author's Note:** SURPRIIIISE. Thanks for the reviews and keep 'em coming. I'm not very sure about this chapter (not like I was sure about the previous ones). Point is: I am needy.

At exactly 3:12PM, thirty-four year old Silvia is at the local drugstore. She's carrying a special cream for her son, who sprained his ankle while at school today. She talks to Jody, an old friend from college and they discuss today's youth and 'what these crazy kids are up to next'. As Jody rants on about how time passes by, Silvia can't help but recall their 'experiment' at college in a drunken haze.

At the same time, just a few blocks away, twelve-year old Simon scores a goal while playing soccer with his best friend Derek. He feels slightly guilty for pretending to have sprained his ankle at school so he would be excused from gym. Nevertheless, he runs his victory lap around the backyard while Derek plans out how he can get back at his friend.

In the next house, sixty-five year old Jim finds that a tear is rolling down his cheek as he finds an old picture in his attic. His old body creaks as he awkwardly sits down at the steps. He wonders whatever happened to Loretta, his high-school sweetheart. And he swears he can almost feel the fabric as his calloused fingers travel along the dress she's wearing in the picture of their high-school prom.

Our attention, however, is aimed across the street.

For at exactly 3:12PM, Hank, Joyce and little Buffy step out of their home to greet their new neighbors. The little blonde girl excitedly tugs at her parents' sleeves.

"Do you think we should have bought them something?" Joyce asks her husband.

"Like what?" Hank answers as he ruffles through his daughter's hair.

"Dad, you're messing it up!" Buffy squeals.

Her father pats her head apologetically.

"I don't know. But you always see people buying new neighbors fruit baskets and what not." Joyce crouches in front of the pouting Buffy and fixes her tousled hair. "In movies, you know?"

"Maybe. But we can invite them over for dinner sometime instead." Hank decides.

Meanwhile, the jittery little blonde has reached the end of her patience and pulls both her parents forcefully towards the house the next door.

Unaware of the impact the following encounter will have on their lives and those of the people around them, the Summers family reach the door.

Completely oblivious that her life is about to be inexorably entwined in the deepest and most intense, intimate level with someone else, our petite blonde stands on her tip toes and rings the bell.

"Yeah?"

Perhaps not the most fitting words for this life-altering occasion.

"Hi! I'm Joyce, this is my husband Hank and this..." Joyce trails off. Where's Buffy?

"...and this is Buffy. Our daughter." Hank finishes.

It appears that our little heroine has developed a sudden bout of shyness.

She shuffles gingerly behind the protection of her father's leg and blushes.

"Say hi, Buffy." Hank gently nudges her on.

"Hi." Buffy whispers.

"We live next door." Joyce explains and offers her hand.

The woman, still clutching the door, suspiciously shakes hands with Joyce and Hank and eyes the little girl. Or the top of her head at least, since Buffy has retreated almost fully behind her father.

Hanks smiles apologetically.

"She's very shy." He says.

"Kids." The woman says in a tone almost resembling disdain.

"Er...Yes, well. We just thought we'd welcome you to the neighborhood..." Hank gives the woman a questioning look.

"Frankie." She says. "Frankie Spencer."

Joyce nods and smiles.

"Pleased to meet you."

Frankie simply grunts in response and pops the bubblegum she was chewing.

"Um. Do you have any children?" Hank asks and he feels his daughter tighten her grip on his leg.

"Ah, yeah... She's... I dunno where the hell that kid is. Faith! Get your butt down here!"

Joyce and Hank exchange a worried glance.

They hear a door opening and then a small brunette appears.

Hank smiles warmly at the little girl and Joyce nearly coos.

Hank crouches to get her on eye level and Faith takes a barely visible step back.

"Are you Faith?" Hank asks softly.

The frightened Faith nods and she apprehensively glances at her mother who's now lighting a cigarette.

Frankie cocks an eyebrow at the opened mouth of Joyce, who in turn forces a small smile.

"She's a beautiful little girl." Joyce says.

Faith's mother shrugs indifferently and sighs. Obviously bored.

"Well, Faith, you've got a beautiful name too." Hank whispers. He gets up and stands behind Buffy.

"This is our daughter. Her name's Buffy. I think you're about the same age."

Faith seems to be confused, not exactly sure what they're getting at.

Hank turns to Frankie.

"Maybe Faith and Buffy can play together some time? We'd be happy to have her over once in a while."

Suddenly, Frankie's eyes light up.

"For real? Cuz I swear, the kid freaks me out some times. You can take her now if ya want." She says eagerly.

Faith bows her head in shame and her beautiful face is hidden behind her dark brown locks.

"Ah..." Joyce begins. She exchanges another look with her husband and nods in understanding.

"Sure. I think Buffy would like that too. Won't you sweetie?"

The little blonde had been watching in wonderment and disbelief at the scene in front of her. She had never seen people act that way before, especially not a mother and daughter.

She nods slowly, not taking her eyes off Faith, who looked up surprised when she heard that they didn't mind her coming over.

Poor Faith.

She seems to be frightened to death not only by her mother, but strangely also by Hank.


	4. The doorstep Take One

**Author's Note:** Who'd have thunk it? People like the story. Let's see if you still like it after this chapter, huh? Anyways, thanks for the reviews. I love 'em.

To a simple observer, the scene at the doorstep seems the most normal of things. What's so strange about a family greeting the new neighbors?

Nothing, of course.

To a more perceptive observer, the scene at the doorstep still seems completely normal. The single mother has much to do and it would do the little brunette girl good to have a friend in the new environment. Nothing strange about that, is there?

No, of course not.

But the scene at the doorstep isn't quite that normal. I suppose you have to be there to notice.

Joyce, for example, immediately notices the youth of Faith's mother. Why, she couldn't be any older that twenty-five, surely.

But most of all, it's an underlying feeling of unease that causes the Summers' to think that the current situation they're in, isn't normal at all.

Buffy, however, is the most confused. The mean woman looks as if she walked straight out one of the movies she wasn't allowed to watch. The way Frankie looks at Buffy is similar to the way Buffy looks at her broccoli. The little blonde checked, but she simply can not find her resemblance with the unappetizing vegetable.

Truthfully, the seven-year old understands none of it.

Yet, even though she is confused and frightened, she does not hesitate to offer her hand to her appointed playmate.

The small brunette has many physical similarities with her mother but has not even a hint of cruelty on her wide-eyed expression.

To Buffy, she seems just as scared and confused as herself. And it takes her no time at all to decide that she, Buffy Summers, will guide this poor lost little girl through her world. They will write books about her self-proclaimed heroics, she told herself.

It isn't her hopes for fame that leads her to want to help the newcomer though. In the first place, it's simply because Buffy has a kind and generous heart. She knew from the first glance that she would like Faith.

So there was no time to be wasted.

Faith, however, doesn't seem to understand Buffy's intention. She stares at the small outstretched hand and then looks upon Buffy as if she has completely lost her mind.

The introvert brunette then seems to understand. She stretches out her own hand and...

shakes Buffy's.

Well... I suppose that's very polite of her, but it isn't quite what Buffy had in mind.

"No, silly!" She gently chides.

This time, Buffy simply takes hold of the other girls hand pulls.

As Hank and Joyce attempt to receive more information from Frankie, like when Faith was expected home, the little blonde practically draggs Faith next door.

"I'm not silly." Faith huffs. "What're you doing?"

Buffy rolls her eyes, unknowingly starting a routine between the two.

"What do you think I'm doing?" She lifts their entwined hands in front of them.

The brunette cocks an eyebrow, which works surprisingly well for a six-year old.

"I think you're kidnapping me." She mumbles.

Oh. Our shy little Faith seems to have a feisty streak. Buffy giggles.

"Hasn't anyone held your hand before?" she asks.

Faith seems to have to think about that. She bites her lip as she tries to recall when her hand was last held. After a minute, she gives up and shrugs.

"Only you."

That's not right, at all. What kind of upbringing doesn't involve occasional hand holding?

Buffy also seems to be shocked by the revelation and would like to do nothing less than hug the unfortunate girl in front of her. But then again, if little Faith was surprised by Buffy holding her hand, what reaction would a hug bring? No, perhaps it would be best if Buffy slowly eased her into these things.

"Well it isn't that hard, is it?" she smiles at Faith.

The brunette looks at their entwined hands studiously.

"I guess not."

And that's how Hank and Joyce find the two girls.

Holding hands on their doorstep, as if they had been best friends forever.


	5. There's no place like home

**Author's Note: **Sorry it took so long. Gotta say though... I don't like this chapter. I actually wanted to fast-forward the whole dealy till when the girls are 11-12-13 or somethin. But oh well. Next chapter I guess.

It's been a year since Faith and her mother have moved to Sunnydale. It's been a year since little Buffy and little Faith have met. It's only been a year... But Joyce knows she's in big trouble.

She had just finished making the sandwiches for lunch and had placed them in the fridge. She had sat down in the livingroom, deciding to relax a little with her favorite book. She had sat down in her favorite easy chair, she had taken a sip of her vanilla tea, she had clearly heard two little girls playing outside in the garden, and she had leaned back and opened her book.

She had been so caught up in the book, she hadn't noticed that the giggles and squeals had died down to nothing. When Alejandro had saved poor princess Josephine from the blazing fire, Joyce put her book down and listened. She heard the old clock ticking. She heard a little breeze entering from outside. But she did not hear the two little girls.

"Oh dear..." She mumbles as she stands up and walks towards the back lawn. Her demeanor is one of worry, but strangely enough...not worry for the little girls. Worry for the whole neighborhood who might once again be faced with one of the two little girls' not-so-well-thought-out plans.

"Buffy? Faith, sweetie?" She calls out shakily.

Nothing.

She finds toys scattered all over the garden, but no little girls. She jogs back inside the kitchen and frowns. Perhaps attempting to put herself in the little girls' position. What would they do? As she thinks of little Faith, a look of realization appears. Joyce smiles fondly but also a little triumphantly as she opens the cupboard holding the coveted cookie jar.

Her smile is yet again, turned into a frown. A confused one this time. The cookie jar was still where it was supposed to be. It had not been moved, and no signs of cookie-theft could be seen.

"They learn quick..." Joyce mutters dejectedly.

We would not expect any different from our two little leading ladies. The once so shy little brunette has blossomed into a rather loud but adorable troublemaker. And even though little Faith was the brain behind the whole cookie-operation, her blonde counterpart was not without leadership qualities.

With that in thought, Joyce rushes towards the front door, a silent prayer rushing through her mind. She opens the door, but is infinitely relieved to see her car safely parked on the driveway.

One must not forget the car-incident wherein a clearly blonde-haired little girl sat behind the steering wheel hysterically crying her scared little eyes out. Surprisingly, little Faith had saved the day, oddly knowing perfectly well where the breaks were.

The out of breath mother leans against the doorway, her right hand on her wildly beating chest. And then she hears it. She almost discards the muted thump, but hears it again. With a glint in her eye and an almost predatorlike grin, Joyce sneaks up the stairs. Though she would be careful not to mention it to the girls, she was at times quite entertained on the many occasions when the girls disappeared. At first, Joyce had panicked, almost called the police. But as time taught her, the girls were quite capable of taking care of themselves. It was everyone and everything else that was in danger. Yet, Joyce found pleasure in their intricate game.

Once upstairs, she hears silent whispers coming from her own bedroom door. Tip-toeing towards it, she leans against the wooden door as to make out the whispers.

"You owe me big time, B." She hears Faith grumble.

"Stop struggling!" Buffy squeaks. "I'm almost done, _cry-baby_."

Joyce can't help but smile as she hears Faith mutter something incoherently. She then decides to apply a little shock-therapy to the sneaky little girls. Throwing the door open, she steps into the room yelling.

"Surprise!"

"Iiiiiiiiiieeeeeee!" Buffy squeals and jumps behind her parents' bed. Not without first succesfully poking Faith in the eye with lipstick.

"Aaaaarrgh!" Faith yells, clasping her hands on the injured eye, she falls back in her chair, causing it to topple back.

Joyce stands in the doorway, silent. She was quite baffled with the sight in front of her. The contents of her closet had been strewn about the room. Her make-up table was a complete and utter mess. But what baffled her most, was the fact that Faith was wearing one of Joyce's more colorful skirts from in college. Faith was covered in an extravagant amount of blush, eyeliner, mascara and lipstick. Her usually wild brown locks were covered in all sorts of spray and accesories.

"Owww..." Faith accidentally lets out as her left eye stings.

Joyce is immediately awoken from her bedazzled state and rushes to little girl's side.

"Faith, honey, are you ok?" She forgets how uncomfortable Faith is with physical contact and quickly gathers her in her arms.

The little brunette hesitates for a second, still not used to the loving attitude of the woman. She then sees Buffy cowering behind Joyce's shoulder.

"Uh-huh." She answers and glares at the wide-eyed blonde.

Joyce gently places Faith back on the floor, inspects her eye and then assesses the damage done to her bedroom.

"It was _my_ fault." The girls blurt out together. They then look at the other, annoyed.

"I mean..." Buffy starts.

"Yeah, it was her fault." Faith finishes. Buffy looks at her partner in crime in shock and swats the brunette's arm.

Faith shrugs and points at her lipstick covered eye accusingly. Buffy rolls her eyes.

Joyce watches amused as the two little girls silently made a deal.

"Fine." Her daughter pouts. "It was _my_ fault."

After Buffy had cleaned up with the help of an offended Faith, they had spent the rest of the afternoon watching cartoons in the living room. As the sun set, Joyce took Faith back next door. The little girl was very adept at hiding the weight that was once again being put upon her shoulders. Faith made sure to act as normal as possible, she made sure not to let the tears fall as she waved Buffy goodbye from her back door.

And as night fell and darkness claimed the small town, Faith would sit by her window, battered and bruised. She was sad because she wouldn't be able to play with Buffy for another week. She was mad because she had made her mom mad again. She should have tried harder to take off all the make-up. She was mad at herself for being all those things her mom called her. She didn't want to be a slut, a whore. She was sad and bleeding, but she wouldn't cry. She was mad and hurting, but she wouldn't scream.

The little girl looked out her window, into Buffy's room, where the small blonde slept peacefully in her soft bed. Faith smiled, content that her partner was ok.


	6. Fear

**Author's Note:** This is a short one, folks. I'm trying to work my way up to when I fast forward to preteen B&F. Again: I am very grateful for the reviews. Thanks.

There was a new face in Sunnydale. Perhaps not a very friendly face, but a new face nevertheless. Of course, Sunnydale wasn't _that_ isolated that its people would faint at the sight of someone new. This new face stood out, however, for several reasons.

The first and foremost reason, was because the new man, was currently staying with the Spencers. Ah, the Spencers. The name provoked many a reaction from all who was once confronted with one of the Spencer girls.

The ones who had only ever met Frankie Spencer, would start fidgeting uncomfortably at the mention of the name. Truly, Frankie Spencer had that effect on most people. The good people of Sunnydale had never quite met such a woman. Some would absolutely detest Frankie, but be afraid to speak out about their feelings. Others would simply shake their heads sadly, feeling as though she was simply having trouble fitting in.

The ones who had met little Faith… Well that was a whole different story. Our little brunette was undoubtedly a very charming troublemaker. Anna Benson, her second grade teacher would at first rant about the little girl's antics. She would get worked up talking about what happened during the Thanksgiving play and she would get tears in her eyes simply thinking about the field trip to the beach. But at the end of her frustrated outbursts, she would shake her head, a fond smile lighting up her tired features. The twinkle in her grey eyes rebuked any monologue she had about the little girl.

But we seem to be drifting from the topic at hand.

The second reason the new face stood out from any other visitor, was his appearance. He had been spotted at the local store, buying beer, in a completely dishevelled state.

Unshaven and in dirty clothes, he grunted instead of saying 'thank you' as he checked out. Sam, the store owner, had barely gotten used to the impolite manners of Frankie Spencer, and now this complete stranger had stumbled his way into Sam's store, grunting away all attempts at conversation.

Yes, many things stood out from this man. The way his eyes always seemed blood-shot, the way he never seemed to stop scratching his left arm,…

To Buffy, only one thing had truly stood out since the man's arrival. Faith suddenly seemed to return to her introvert ways.

The two girls would be reading comics in Buffy's bedroom, Buffy would look up at Faith and she would find her staring blankly out the window.

Usually, Faith would be completely caught up in the comic book. Little Buffy enjoyed watching her friend as she read. How her expressive brown eyes would widen every so often, how she would bite her lip when things got exciting. Lately, however, Faith was closed off. At times, Buffy would even get the feeling Faith was scared.

What really confused the seven-year old though, was the time she had wanted to scare Faith by sneaking up to her and grabbing her side.

The brunette had been lying on her stomach on the living room floor, doing her math homework. Buffy had gone to the kitchen to grab a juice box. Returning to the living room, which had become homework central, Buffy had thought it was a perfect opportunity to help Faith loosen up. The little brunette seemed distant and rather melancholy to Buffy.

She sneaked up behind her friend, leaned over slightly, and grabbed the little girl's waist.

Faith had yelled out.

This was not surprising.

But Faith had yelled out in _pain_.

She had then began kicking wildly and flailing her fists, apparently an instinctive reaction. The shocked little blonde had received a small foot in her stomach and lost her balance, falling on top of her hysterical friend.

As Buffy yelped in pain and surprise, Faith seemed to calm down instantly. She quickly crawled backwards from Buffy, her brown eyes wide in shock and fear.

Faith's t-shirt had riled up from the incident and Buffy's own eyes widened as she received a glimpse of Faith's bare abdomen. Black. Purple. Blue.

Catching Buffy's gaze, Faith looked down and pulled her t-shirt back in place. The little brunette then panicked and ran away as fast as her legs could carry her.

Buffy sat frozen in place, in the middle of the living room.


	7. Innocence Lost

**Author's note: Finally. Anyway, this is the last chapter with the kids in 'em. And I'm afraid the people who liked the story so far, are gonna absolutely hate it afterwards. Don't blame me, I never claimed to be a good writer!**

There is panic in Sunnydale. Police sirens blare through the usually quiet streets, lighting up the dark night with an eery red glow. Small children wake up and crawl in bed with their parents, seeking comfort in their warm embrace.

Buffy Summers wakes up to the sound of her mother's voice. The little girl sits up in her bed, immediately awoken. She has never heard her mother like that. Buffy jumps out of bed and peers out her window to the street below. Something has happened in Revello Drive.

"No, where _is_ she? What happened?" She hears her mother yell.

There are police cars everywhere. Buffy can see three in her line of vision, but she knows there are more. The street is swamped by people in uniform and trenchcoats and worried neighbors.

"Honey, calm down. Let him talk." Hank rubs his wife's back in an attempt to calm the poor woman down.

"I don't _want_ to calm down, Hank, I want to know where Faith is. Is she okay?" She asks the man in front of her urgently.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid I can't tell you any more than I already have. Now please, let me do my job." The man answers. He proceeds to take out a notepad from his long brown coat and clicks a pen. "Tell me exactly what happened tonight."

"I-..." Whatever the worried woman was about to say, dies in her throat as she sees a body-shaped black bag wheeled out of the house next to hers. "Oh god..." She buries her head into her husband's chest.

Hank blinks away his own tears of horror and holds his wife tightly.

"Mommy?"

Both Joyce and Hank freeze. The woman looks up, aghast to find her seven-year old little girl wide-eyed at their doorstep. Hank turns around.

"Buffy, get back in the house." He tries to hold his voice steady, to seem as if he has any semblance of control over the situation.

"What's going on?" Buffy looks upon her mother, begging her in a trembling voice for answers, begging to wake her up from this nightmare.

"Sweetie, get back inside." Joyce repeats. She watches as Buffy finally notices the black body-bag being loaded into a car.

The little girl looks back to the neigboring house in complete horror and fear.

"Faith?" She whispers to herself. "Faith?" She screams.

"Baby.." Joyce runs over to her little girl but Buffy moves too quick, slipping out of her protective arms and running towards Faith's house.

"Faith!" She screams again.

"No!" A police man yells as she pushes her way nearer. Another police woman scoops Buffy up, but quickly lets go as she receives a small fist to her nose.

"Faith!"

"Buffy, calm down." Hank takes hold of his daughter and holds the struggling blonde tight. "Calm down, baby." He soothes her to no avail.

"No!" She screams. "Let me go! Where's Faith? Where's Faith! Let go!"

"Shh, honey, calm down. It'll be ok, sweetie, calm down." Hank desperately searches for more comforting words, more truthful words.

Buffy claws at her father's arm, violently trying to get away from his firm grip. Sobs wrack her small body as her screams turn into incoherent whimpers.

"Look, Mr Summers?" The same man talking to Joyce sighs tiredly. "If you and your family would like to get back in your home, detective Roberts and I will come 'round in about five minutes. We need to know what happened here."

Hank nods weakly at the short middle-aged man.

"I understand." Joyce leans down to kiss the top of her now silent daughter's head and together they walk back numbly to their house.

Detective Boggs watches as they leave and can't help feel sorry for them. The short man scratches at his beard and curses himself.

"Mrs Summers?" He calls out.

Joyce turns to face the detective, looking ten years older than she had just an hour ago and truly tortured. Detective Boggs sighs again. He had to do this. He briskly approaches the tired woman.

"Faith Spencer?" He asked. "Seven years old?"

Joyce's eyes widen and she nods, afraid of what the man in front of her might say.

"The girl... We didn't find her."

The woman holds up a hand to her mouth and gasps. Her mind is immediately filled with even more questions and a suffocating fear.

"What does that mean? What are you saying?" She chokes out.

"It means..." He shrugs helplessly. "It means we didn't find her." The man awkwardly wraps his brown coat tighter around him. He didn't want to give this woman any false hope. The missing girl might be dead. But as long as they didn't find a body, she might still be alive.

"She might still be alive, Mrs Summers." He states. "I'll drop in and ask some more questions in five minutes, alright?"

This was enough for Joyce. She might still be alive. Faith might still be alive! She quickly ran back to her home in search of her husband. She found Hank in the living room, comforting their devestated daughter curled up on the couch.

"It'll be okay, sweetie, it'll be okay..." He mumbles helplessly.

"Hank?" Joyce stands by the doorway and gestures for him to come nearer. He stands up, confused to see his wife suddenly energetic.

"They haven't found Faith!" Joyce says in hushed tones. "She might still be alive! Boggs, he told me, she might still be alive!" She repeated.

"Oh, god..." Hank lets out a sigh of overwhelming relief, but it is quickly replaced by more worry. "Where is she? Where would she g-..."

But his wife is already gone. Joyce dashes up the stairs, nearly stumbling.

"Faith?" She calls. She barges into her daughter's room, her eyes searching. "Faith, sweetie?"

Downstairs, Hank has caught on and he checks the back yard.

"Faith, are you here buddy?" He checks the porch, the kitchen, everywhere. He enters the living room again, to find his wife with a disappointed look to match his own.

"Do you think they took her?" Joyce's voice cracks and she hugs Buffy tightly.

The family sits in silence, fighting off the feeling of defeat and desperately trying to hold on to any sliver of hope. The silence is broken by a short but firm knock on the door.

Hank gets up to answer the door.

"Maybe you should..." He gestures towards their shocked daughter.

Joyce nods and lifts Buffy in her arms.

"I'll take her to our room."

Hank opens the front door for the two detectives and steps aside to let them in. He silently leads them to the dining room and they sit down in heavy silence. Just before detective Boggs could ask if Joyce was joining them, she enters the room and seats herself next to her husband. She holds his hand for support and nods at the two men opposite them.

The taller, blonde detective coughs.

"Mr and Mrs Summers, we need you to tell us exactly what happened tonight. Did you hear anything out of the ordinary? Did you see anything?" He says in a monotone voice. His partner, detective Boggs places his notepad in front of him and waits for them to begin.

Joyce and Hank look at eachother and decide who will begin. Hank nods and squeezes his wife's hand gently.

"Well... I woke up around two AM. I didn't know what woke me up, I'm a deep sleeper, really but..." He weaves his right hand through his hair. "A few seconds later I heard gunshots and screams."

"That's when Joyce woke up." He adds. " I told her to call the police and I ran outside. It was really dark, and I could barely see it, but two men got into a dark... I think it was black, car and sped out of the street. It..." Hank coughs. "I didn't catch the license plate. It was so dark and...the screams... It was Frankie..."

Joyce holds her husband's hand tightly as he finds it difficult to hold in his tears. Hank looks up at the detectives, his eyes haunted.

"Is she..." He isn't capable of finishing the sentence.

The detectives look at eachother. Detective Roberts nervously taps his fingers against the table and looks down. Boggs places his pen on his notepad and looks at both Hank and Joyce.

"Mr and Mrs Summers... We found two bodies. We identified one as a known drug trafficker and junkie, Johnny Ramirez. The other... was Frankie Spencer."

Hank shakes his head in disbelief and Joyce swallows in her sobs, finding strength in her husband's touch.

"Were you close with your neighbors?"

The Summers' shake their heads no.

"Frankie... She was a difficult woman. We didn't see her often, she always sent Faith out." Joyce answers.

"Were you aware that your neighbors were trafickers?" The younger blonde detective asks.

Hank clears his throat. "No."

"Were you aware that both Johnny Ramirez and Frankie Spencer were intensive drug abusers? More specifically heroïne and coke?"

"No." Hank repeats.

"We-..." Joyce wipes away her tears. "We had our suspicions about Johnny... He's only been here a few weeks. We didn't know." She buries her head in her hands. "Oh god, we didn't know..."

Hank wraps his arms around his wife.

"Did you see or hear Faith?" Boggs asks softly. Hank shakes his head and his shoulders sag in defeat. The detective nods and looks at his partner.

"If Faith got away, where do you think she would go?" Robertson asks.

"We thought she would come here." Hank sighs. "We don't know where else she would go."

Robertson nods and waits for Boggs to finish writing his notes.

"Alright. Mr and Mrs Summers, I think that's all for now." He reaches into his coat pocket and takes out a card. "We'll call you if we need any more information, but that's our number in case something comes to mind, ok?"

The two detectives stand up slowly.

"Detectives?" Joyce whispers. She looks up at the two tired men. "Will you find her?"

Boggs looks away from the woman's gaze.

"We'll look, ma'am. Don't you worry." His partner answers.

"Detective." Joyce stands up, wipes cheeks dry and straightens her shoulders bravely. "Please... What are the chances of finding her?"

"Look, Mrs Summers..." Robertson sighs and looks away from the woman. "The odds aren't good." He concedes.

"We'll find our way out." Boggs finishes and leads him and his partner outside.

The sun is beginning to peek out in the horizon and the sky, as always in this small California town, is painted a beautiful blush pink, gently pushing away the rich dark purple and blue.

The streets are quiet once again. And if you didn't know any better, you would almost think nothing has changed in this small town. But sadly, you do know better.

And sadly, so does little Buffy Summers.


	8. Nine Years

**Author's note: The chapter of doom. Love it or hate it, either way I have thoroughly enjoyed all the kick-ass reviews. PS: I have an obsession for cherry coke.**

Time can not be stopped. Time is a constant flow that can not be held back, slowed down or reversed. Time is life. And at seven years old, Buffy Summers learned to hate it.

As the weeks following Faith's disappearance went by, Buffy attempted to stop it. No, she wouldn't get out of bed, she was waiting for Faith. No, she wouldn't go to school, she was waiting for Faith. No, she wouldn't eat, she was waiting for Faith.

The little girl had even run away several times, determined to locate and bring back her brunette friend. But to her dismay, the painful truth would inevitably turn its head and she would realize once again that she did not know where Faith was, nor did she have a clue how she would find the girl.

And as months crawled past the broken little child, she learned of the nature of time. The nature of life. And at first she could barely go ten minutes without thinking of Faith. But after a longer while, she could go an hour without thoughts of the little brunette.

Yet after nine years, Buffy Summers can still not go a day without her lost partner.

Things have changed in Sunnydale. Or perhaps they haven't; only Buffy has.

She now looks upon the quiet town through the eyes of a huntress. She now knows of the beasts hiding in its shadows. She knows of her calling. Barely sixteen years old, Buffy carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. It is a burden unfit for a girl so young. It is a burden unfit for any person alone. And she had considered denying her calling, denying the dark creatures she now knows roam the night. However, she can not shake the question: Did Faith fall upon one of these monsters in the night she was lost?

So Buffy gets out of bed, she goes to school, she eats and she slays. But, perhaps even unknown to herself, she is still waiting for Faith.

The bright afternoon sun shines over Sunnydale High school. Buffy Summers, now sixteen, can be found sitting in the grass opposite the school. Glaring at the building.

"Maybe I should stake him."

The blonde, though nine years have passed, is still small for her age. Her features have become more pronounced and she has grown into a rather beautiful young woman. She doesn't interrupt her glaring as she takes a sip of her water bottle. The years have been hard on the girl, losing her best friend at such a young age. Being confronted with the dark side not only of man, but demon alike at very extreme measures. Luckily, the blonde has found friends, who not only support her through the daily routine, but also in her nightly calling.

"You can't stake the principal, Buffy."

Willow Rosenberg. A soft-spoken wicca who stood by Buffy's side through all the hardships the years had brought. They had known each other since kindergarten but their friendship never truly blossomed until after Faith's disappearance.

"Because he's human, right?"

Xander Harris. A clumsy young boy with a heart of gold who, although shaking in his shoes, also remained beside Buffy in her battles against evil. He too is a Sunnydale resident since birth and since birth also inseparable from Willow. Together, they had approached a then seven year-old Buffy who seemed lost without Faith on the playground.

"That's debatable. But what if I hire a vamp to turn him?" Buffy grimaces as she realizes her own words. "I wouldn't really be killing him, you know. He wouldn't be dead. I'd be...unkilling him."

"Oh, well if you put it that way..." The brown-haired boy deadpans.

"Don't worry, Buff, you nailed that History test. As long as you keep your grades up he can't really do anything." Willow attempts to comfort the blonde.

"Yeah but what happens next time he catches me sneaking around the basement with a sword?" The agitated girl sighs. She looks down at her water bottle and sighs again, noticing it's empty state.

"Here." Xander offers his own bottle. "New energy drink. Low on fat but high on zest!"

Buffy smiles ruefully and gulps down the rest of the beverage. Immediately after, her eyes light up.

"Oh wow, this stuff is good!" She exclaims enthusiastically. "I feel all...tingly and energized!"

Willow and Xander exchange a suspicious glance and watch the small blonde as she stands up and jumps on her toes.

"Um... It's just cherry coke, Buff. I lied." Xander admits slowly.

"Are you sure?" Buffy asks. She then seems dazed, confused even. She looks around, as if searching for something and then shakes her head. "It wears off quick, though. Do you have any more?"

Willow stands up, still eye-balling the strangely behaving Buffy and swings her backpack behind her shoulder.

"Xander, what did you put in there?"

"Nothing, I swear!" Xander proclaims and joins his friends as they stroll back towards the school. "But fine, see for yourself."

The confused sixteen year-old boy pulls a can of cherry coke out of his shoulder bag and hands it to his blonde friend. Buffy quickly opens the can and takes a sip as she walks through the high school doors. She nearly chokes on her drink and stops walking. Surprised, Willow pats her on the back, frowning at Xander.

"I didn't do anything!" He exclaims again.

Recovering from her coughing fit, Buffy stands up straight and stares at the can in her hand.

"No, he didn't do anything. It's just..." She smiles at her friends. "Wow, this stuff is amazing! Here, Will, take a sip."

Willow accepts the can and sniffs at it suspiciously. She glances at Buffy and at Xander before finally taking a hesitant little sip. The excited blonde watches the redhead expectantly.

"Well? Don't you feel all... tingly and warm and completely rejuvenated?" She asks.

"Um... Not really."

Buffy's face falls.

"But it's really good! And...sugary and... with the little bit of cherry in it. Yum!" Willow quickly adds, taking another sip of the can.

"Nevermind, Willow... Let's just go." says Buffy, and the trio continue their way to the library, only Buffy with a strange new skip in her step.

"Maybe it's a slayer thing." Xander suggests as he himself drinks from the mysterious beverage. "Maybe cherry has a strange effect on you."

"I can't believe you don't feel it though! You guys are missing out. And it's getting stronger too." The girl knows perfectly well that this feeling was far from normal, but it simply felt so good. So for now, she decides to simply relish in it and perhaps stock up on cherry coke.

The trio enter the library and find Giles talking to someone in the weapon's cage. He turns toward them, looking completely baffled.

"Ah, you're here." He says and replaces his eyeglasses on his face. "I'd like to introduce you to someone."

The tall watcher steps aside and a brunette girl appears from the cage. The girl is holding an axe, appreciatively looking down on it, her long brown locks hiding her face. She then looks up, causing her hair to fall behind her shoulder, leaving her face exposed.

"This-" Giles begins, pausing a little for dramatic effect. " is-.."

"Faith..."

**Extra Author's Note: Evilduckk, you creeped me out with your freakishly astute premonition. Oh, and there will definitely be a Buffy/Faith pairing. It would be unnatural to have Buffy and Faith in the same story and not have some kind of attraction. Not just a friendly one either.**


	9. Strange Behaviour

**Author's Note: Oh wow. Was not expecting so many good reviews. But I sure as hell am not complaining. Hope this one isn't too bad either. Now where's my cherry coke?**

The air is thick with tension. The breathed out whisper of Faith's name seems to have frozen the odd group of people. Or at least it seems that way on the surface. There are certain things, small things, that people do subconsciously that gives away their thoughts and feelings.

Taking a closer look at Giles, there is a small crease on his forehead. The watcher is confused. His eyes dart from the brunette next to him to Buffy. His mouth is just the slightest bit open, hinting that if nothing is said soon, he would have to break the silence and ask some questions.

Willow stands a little ways behind Buffy, her mouth is closed tightly and her eyes are wide. Her eyes, as Giles', dart between the two other girls. The silent redhead is tense, anxious to know how Buffy will react to the sudden reappearance of Faith. Her eyes rest a fraction longer on the brunette, as if comparing the now older Faith to the one of her vague memories.

Xander stands in an odd position, freezing in the middle of his actions, his hand is still stretched out a little in front of him. His eyes look as if they might bulge out at any given time, but unlike Willow and Giles, his stare rests solely upon Faith. And unlike Willow and Giles, he shows no hints of thought other than utter shock.

But at this time, the three of them dare not move. They dare not make a sound. This moment revolves completely around the little blonde and the prodigal brunette. It's as though the very world has stopped turning, every single being in existance waiting for one of the two young girls to make a move.

Faith, not surprisingly, makes the first. The brunette cocks her head slightly to the side, a smile gracing her before expressionless face.

"Hey, B. Miss me?"

One would think the importance of this moment is lost on the girl. Her casual words defying the electricity that so obviously travels the air. But her words are not meant for the world. Her words are not meant for the confused Giles, anxious Willow or shell-shocked Xander.

Her words are meant for Buffy. And as silence once again falls upon the dusty library, Buffy's incredulous, almost suspicious look, turns into one of final recognition and tremendous relief. In a flash, the little blonde is hugging Faith, causing the girl to drop the axe she was holding. Buffy wraps her arms tighter than humanly possible around the brunette . Her face is buried in the girl's long brown mane and tears fall freely from her eyes. Her body shakes uncontrallably and if she wasn't smiling, one would almost think Buffy was under unimaginable grief.

"It's really you..." The blonde whispers through her sobs.

Faith stands awkwardly with her arms hovering around, but not touching Buffy. She seems uncomfortable with the situation, looking down at the blonde, surprised. She then closes her eyes and sighs. Slowly, she places her arms on Buffy's back. She returns the hug, finally settling in the emotional blonde's embrace.

What a sight to see. After nine years, the girls are finally reunited. They have changed, that much is obvious. But as they hold on tightly to eachother, in their own little protective bubble, everyone and everything else forgotten, it seems that both Buffy and Faith never let go in the first place.

"Eh... I assume they already knew eachother?" Giles eventually breaks the silence. He looks at Willow and is surprised to find her teary-eyed and sniffling. She is smiling and nods affirmatively at Giles. "Absolutely bizarre..." He mumbles to himself. He then proceeds to take off his glasses and thoroughly clean them, still mumbling incoherently.

Eventually, Buffy breaks away from Faith but refuses to distance herself more than a step away. She looks the brunette up and down, finally resting on the girl's face, spell-bound. She hastily wipes her tears away and giggles nervously.

"Look at you." She smiles warmly. "And you said you were never going to wear make-up." The blonde touches the brunette's arm lightly.

Faith gives a short laugh, grinning at the girl in front of her. Her head slanted to the side and her eyes lazily travelling down the blonde.

"Look at _you_, B. You must've grown a whole inch." She looks up at Buffy, a familiar mischievous glint in her eyes.

The smaller blonde lets out a half-sob, half-laugh as she hugs Faith once again. Faith chuckles, a new smoky quality in her voice. She hugs Buffy back with one arm, only now noticing Willow and Xander.

"Hey, guys." She holds up her free hand as a way of greeting and carefully disentangles herself from the clinging blonde. "I'm Faith."

Buffy bedrudgingly releases her hold on the girl and settles on standing closely at her side. Willow smiles widely at Faith.

"We remember." She says, blushing. Faith cocks an eyebrow and then smiles apologetically.

Xander awakens from his bedazzlement and steps nearer to the two girls.

"Yeah, you were the queen of the playground." He adds. "You saved me from Gary Waldek once. Big guy. About ye high." He holds his hand by his waist.

Recognition is seen in Faith's eyes and she nods, grinning.

"You're the kid with the Wolverine obsession, fake sideburns and all. X-man!"

The brown-haired boy smiles a little embarassed.

"That's me. Fake sideburn-boy." He admits.

"And you..." Faith points at Willow. "Little Red!" She smiles, surprised to find her memories, however vague, coming back.

Buffy gently nudges her.

"That's Willow and Xander. You used to call them the Liamese twins." She teases.

Faith laughs and nods. Shrugging at her childhood mistake. And then the bell rings. She steps away from the little blonde. Buffy immediately misses the proximity and fights the urge to pull the girl closer again.

"Guess that means you guys gotta get to class, right?" Faith inquires.

Buffy stares at the brunette, incredulously. They hadn't seen eachother in nine years and Faith wanted her to get to class? Before the blonde can protest, however, Faith has already retreated towards the library exit.

"I got some stuff to do, but I'll meet you after school? I'll be back here in three hours, alright?" She points at her with both hands for confirmation, still back-tracking on the way out.

"No. Faith, don't go." Suddenly Buffy sounds as she would have nine years ago. Her voice is small and almost pleading. Her fear of losing Faith once again freezes her in place, no matter how much she wanted to just grab the brunette and make her stay.

Faith drops her arms, already at the door and looks at Buffy sincerely.

"Buffy. I'll be here. Three hours." She gives her a small smile, which turns into a grin. "An education is important, ya know?" She mimics their second-grade teacher.

She gives one last wave, before turning around and disappearing from the library, leaving Buffy and the others confused behind.

"Ah, yes. Well..." Giles breaks the silence once again. "Perhaps the rest of you would like to meet me back here after class and tell me how long you've known of another slayer."

Buffy nods, distracted, and hurriedly walks out of the library.

"Sure Giles..." She mumbles and also disappears out of sight.

Both Willow and Xander glance at eachother, worried and not entirely understanding what had just happened or what was expected of them to do.

"It's rather important to know how this came to pass. It isn't every day that two slayers are called. It's rather unique, even. Quite bizarre." He tells them.

"Sure Giles..." Xander says and shrugs at Willow. "See you after class."

The two turn around and begin walking away, until Willow abruptly stops. Xander pushes open the doors but then turns back, noticing Willow's absence beside him. He watches confused as Willow slowly turns back to Giles, her mouth agape.

"Giles... What did you just say?"


	10. The doorstep Take Two

1632 Revello Drive. The house has barely changed in nine years. The front door has been repainted and colorful flowers now decorate the front lawn. But otherwise all is the same. The pathway of grey stones leading to the house is still interrupted by the single stone that is somehow darker than the others. The white mailbox still stands slightly slanted and the flawed brick just beneath the left window still juts out a fraction.

Faith stands unmoving in front of the house. She blinks, but no tears fall from her eyes. The outside of the house may not have changed but she knows the interior must have. The inner walls were riddled with bullet holes last the brunette was here and her memories of them are painfully clear.

She remembers that one fateful night as clear as though it was yesterday. The day leading up to it had been tiring and painful. For hours Faith had been forced to clean the house. She had scrubbed the floor on her knees while Johnny mocked her, holding the mop handle threateningly in his filthy hands. She had gathered the many scattered beer bottles and cans, she had thrown away all the burnt scraps of aluminum foil and disformed spoons. And as she lay exhausted in her tattered old bed she had felt filthy hands crawl all over her tired little body. It wasn't the first time Johnny had touched her in such a sickening fashion and by now, Faith knew it was no use crying for her mother.

She had cursed them both that night. She had huddled up in the corner of her room after Johnny passed out on her bed and she had cursed them. She had wished them dead, and little did she know her wish would be granted just an hour later.

She awoke to the sound of struggle. She payed no notice to it for the sound of struggle was a constant in 1632 Revello Drive. But when she heard her own mother whimper, she couldn't help feel worried. Frankie was her mother, even though the woman frequently kicked and spat on the little girl. Little Faith snuck downstairs only to be frozen in her tracks. Her mother and Johnny were on their knees in the living room, beaten and trembling. Two men stood behind them, both with guns in their hands. Two gunshots and Faith's wish was granted.

An old lady watches her suspiciously as she stands watching the house. The old woman carries with her a book she has reclaimed from a friend. The woman watches Faith suspiciously, not only because she had seen the girl in the exact same postition as she left to pick up the book, but also because her appearance isn't often seen in the small town. Why, the last time she had seen a woman clothed so provocatively was nine years ago. The suspicious woman's step falters as she remembers. Frankie Spencer. The late Frankie Spencer who had lived in 1632 Revello Drive. She slows her pace as she approaches the girl. The brunette stands out from her soft surroundings. The girl's wild brown mane flows down her back. She is wearing an open black leather jacket which shows a scandalously tight red shirt underneath. Her black jeans are just as tight however. Low-hung and hugging the girl's womanly shaped hips. The old woman nearly tsks as she notices the black heavy-looking boots on the girl's feet. Surely those are not fit for a young girl?

As the woman draws nearer and nearer, her eyes widen. The curious woman now completely halts. Those eyes...Those lips... The woman gasps in realization and glances one more time at the girl before completely turning around and hurrying away, back to her friend's house. She simply had to share this shocking news.

All the while, Faith stands in front of 1632 Revello Drive. Unmoving and silent.

"The Carters live there now."

Faith only flinches slightly. She immediately recognizes the voice although it too has changed. The brunette frowns thoughtfully as she feels Buffy move nearer. She had felt a change in the air and in herself a while ago but chose to ignore it. As she had chosen to ignore it when she approached Sunnydale Highschool less than an hour ago. It was a strange tingle, it was as if she could suddenly feel the blood rushing through her veins. As Buffy stands beside her, she feels her heartbeat speed up and her skin hum.

"They're never in though. Business people." Buffy continues.

The blonde watches the brunette both in wonder and worry. There were so many questions she wished to ask but dared not to. Not now. She only hoped that this wasn't a strange dream, that the girl next to her would not suddenly disappear and she would be left alone once again.

"It's barely changed." Faith says, her eyes still firmly in front of her.

The brunette's voice reaches straight to the little blonde's heart and makes it beat faster in joy, excitement and absolute love. Buffy slowly reaches for Faith's hand and entwines her fingers with Faith's.

The taller girl looks down at their hands and then raises her eyes to the blonde looking up at her with glistening green eyes.

"What are you doing?" Faith asks, her voice naturally husky.

Buffy holds Faith's eyes with her own and smiles softly.

"What do you think I'm doing?" She briefly squeezes Faith's hand.

The brunette stands quiet for a moment but the corners of her lips then turn up slightly.

"I think you're kidnapping me."

Buffy gently pulls Faith away from 1632 Revello Drive and they stroll towards the house next door.

"Hasn't anyone held your hand before?" She asks softly.

The two girls reach Buffy's doorstep, holding hands. Slowly, Faith turns her gaze to the girl beside her.

"Only you." She almost whispers.


	11. Changes

"Do you think she's okay?"

They've never seen anyone faint out of shock or surprise before.

"Yeah... She just wasn't expecting you. Let's put her on the couch."

Until a minute ago.

"She looks the same."

The two girls had entered Buffy's home, Faith overcome by wave after wave of memories she thought she had lost forever. She seemed pale to her blonde friend so Buffy had offered her something to drink. As Buffy was pouring some water in a glass, Faith peered through the backdoor window.

Imagine her surprise as suddenly Joyce popped up from behind it. The shocked Joyce fainted on the porch as she saw Faith's bewildered face through the glass.

Buffy watches Faith as she looks at the unconscious Joyce on the couch.

"Does she still make those extra chocolatey cookies?" Faith asks the girl next to her.

"She stopped making them when you... disappeared. She only makes regular chocolate ones."

The petite blonde seems genuinely melancholy about the extra chocolate cookie loss and smiles weakly. Faith hesitantly looks away from woman on the couch and looks at Buffy, her eyes closed off and distant.

"They told me you were dead too." The standing brunette's voice cracks and she looks away, as if angry at herself for revealing emotion.

Buffy's eyes widen and her mouth opens, about to say something, but then closes again indecisively. The nervous blonde clears her throat.

"Who... Who told you?"

Faith is silent, staring at something in the distance through the window. Buffy frowns, afraid she pushed too much and too soon.

"Robert." Faith says quietly "My boss."

The blonde kneeling besides the couch, looks up at Faith inquisitively.

"Your boss?"

The taller girl turns away a little and her expressive face darkens.

"He..." Faith lets out a shaky breath and forces her voice to steady. "He made me do things."

Standing up slowly, Buffy steps nearer. Her heart is beating wildly in her chest and she swears her hands are shaking. If she would stop and think about it, she might find it strange that after nine years, the affection for her childhood friend had not wavered one bit. Had it always been this intense to be around Faith? After nine years, the blonde feels more connected than ever with the young brunette. Her own heart bled for her friend. She released the tears Faith wouldn't allow herself.

"I'm so sorry." She forces herself to say. Not without difficulty she holds back from hugging the girl, unsure of how appreciative Faith would be.

"No big, B." Faith turns fully towards Buffy and shrugs indifferently. "Shit happens."

The brunette shoves her hands in her tight pockets and looks at the little blonde thoughtfully.

"Did the bookguy fill you in about everything?"

Buffy's face scrunches up, making her look like a confused six-year old.

"Giles? Fill me in about what?"

The brunette seems unsure of what to say and shrugs.

"You know...'bout me being a slayer or something."

Buffy gapes at her friend incredulously. Faith fidgets nervously under the silent open-mouthed stare.

"Or... at least that's what those fanged guys keep calling me."

Buffy blinks and her eyes widen even more.

"And that one hooved freak. And you know... I've been called alot of nasty shit, but 'slayer'? I don't get."

Buffy seems completely unable to respond as her mouth opens and closes but no sound comes out. The brunette babbles on nervously.

"I told him I got a name, you know? It's not even that difficult to remember. It's pretty easy, right? Nice and simple. Fai-.."

"Faith!"

Faith freezes in her tracks and Buffy whips around, finding her mother sitting up on the couch, staring at Faith. The shocked Joyce, raises a shaky hand to her open mouth.

"Oh god..." She breathes.

The brunette blushes shyly at the woman she considers the perfect mother and the only adult she unconditionally trusts.

"Hey Mrs S.." Faith awkwardly waves. "I'm back."


	12. Welcome Home

She looks lost as she sits on the freshly made bed. She looks lost to Buffy. To anyone else, she looks at ease and confident. Her legs are stretched out and she's leaning back on her elbows; the picture of laid-back indifference. But she looks lost to Buffy.

"I thought they were forever." Deep auburn eyes meet green.

Buffy smiles sadly.

"Me too." She joins Faith on the bed. "But dad still calls once in a while."

Faith scoots a bit to her left and lies down on her back. Buffy changes positions and lies down next to her silent friend.

They stare at the ceiling for a while.

"It's not like it'd kill him to spend a weekend with me." Buffy whispers eventually.

Faith rolls to her side and leans the side of her head against her palm. Buffy copies her movements and they look at each other on the bed.

"What happened to you, Faith?"

And the mood shifts. From comfortable familiarity to an eery silence. Both girls feel it and Faith abruptly rolls away and gets up from the soft bed.

The brunette shrugs uncomfortably. The silence is not without reason. It is a silence to hide the harsh ugly painful stories that she never wants to tell. With her back to Buffy, her eyes dart all over the room. As if desperate to find an escape from the impending conversation.

The young girl shrugs again and as Buffy watches her, she can't help but wonder what weight those shoulders have to burden.

"Apparently, a lot of mystical shit, B. How many other…" Faith pauses and gestures with her right hand, finding that the words sounded even more absurd out loud than it did in her mind. " …'slayers' are there?"

She turns around, relieved to see that her sudden subject change had its desired effect on the blonde.

"Well…" Buffy begins slowly. And she too stands up, frowning and seemingly about to begin a typical Buffy ramble.

"And how do you know for sure I'm a slayer too?"

"Well you see…"

"And what exactly does 'The Council' do?"

"That's… a good question."

"And do you think your mom needs help for dinner?" Faith smiles at the spluttering Buffy.

Buffy caught the mischievous smile and returns it with a smile of her own.

"Right. Food first. Questions later." She follows Faith into the hallway. "It could still take a while though." She surmises and leads the way to her own bedroom.

"Thanks to you, mom's gone kitchen-crazy." She continued. "She's making curly fries and chicken nuggets."

"My favorite!" Faith exclaims surprised. Buffy chuckles.

"Yeah… Nine years ago anyway. Plus she went out to get some ingredients for her _extra_ chocolaty cookies." Buffy carefully watched Faith's reaction.

"Do you still have those walkie-talkies?" Faith asked.

"Yeah. But I haven't used them anymore since the cookie-op that went terribly terribly wrong." Buffy giggles as she flops down on her bed.

"You were supposed to be on the look-out." Faith reminds her.

"And let the kitchen flood over?" The little blonde countered.

"That was one defective faucet, B."

"Especially with someone standing on it." Buffy laughed at the memory.

"You think your mom's still mad about that?" Faith chuckled.

"Nah. She missed you." Buffy says softly. Afraid that the conversation would take another depressing turn, Buffy stands up and joins Faith.

The brunette seems engrossed in the pictures hanging from Buffy's wall.

"That's Oz. He's Willow's future boyfriend." Buffy points out. Faith cocked an eyebrow. "They're perfect for each other. They just don't know it yet." Buffy explained.

Faith looks amused but unconvinced.

"Anyway, that one's Cordelia." Buffy pointed at the cheerleader on top of a human pyramid. "She's Xanders girlfriend. For now, anyway."

"Jealous?" Faith teases.

"No, no of course not." The blonde quickly uttered. "It's just Cordelia's a bitch." She explained.

"How come you have a picture of the cheerleading squad anyway?" The younger brunette curiously inquires.

Buffy blushes and looks away.

"You have to keep in mind that I was supposed to infiltrate the squad because Giles thought the cheerleaders had gone evil. Evil-er." She unwillingly points at a blonde at the bottom of the pyramid.

It takes Faith a moment to realize that the surly blonde, face covered by messy golden locks, was indeed Buffy Summers.

"Holy shit, B. This slayer deal is way more fucked up than I thought." She laughs. Faith takes another closer look and cracks up all over again. "Look at you, B!"

"Hey!" The offended blonde protests and attempts to pull away Faith and put a stop to her personal embarrassment.

It would have worked with Xander. It would have worked with Willow. It even would have worked with Giles. But Buffy forgot that her childhood friend was now also a Slayer.

Faith playfully fought back, allowing Buffy to pull her away only to gain the upper hand again and push her blonde friend on the bed. Buffy, momentarily surprised by Faith's strength, quickly recovered and grabbed Faith's arms, causing her to topple on top of Buffy on the bed.

The surprised brunette found herself straddling the smaller blonde. She looked down at Buffy's beautiful face. Her smile was absolutely radiating and Faith couldn't help but smile back.

She rolled off her friend and lay beside her, only slightly panting.

"No fair." Buffy panted back.

"Sore loser." Faith replied.

"Nuh-uh." Buffy pouted.

"Yuh-huh." The brunette grinned and propped herself up on one arm.

She turned to face Buffy only to find the blonde had also propped herself up and their faces were barely an inch apart.

For some reason, both girls fall silent, all words forgotten.

"Girls! Dinner!" Joyce calls from downstairs and disturbs the silent gaze between the two girls.

Faith jumps up as if burned by the bed and Buffy absentmindedly fixes her hair.

"Uh… food." The blonde utters.

Faith nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah… Food."


	13. Weird

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. You might notice the writing style is different. The other one was bugging me. But tell me if you don't like it.

The following week came, bringing with it answers to questions, although it seemed as though with every question answered, a whole different set of questions presented itself. Countless hours were spent in the strange school library, where curious weapons lay ominously in a cage and ancient scrolls and tomes of magic and demons stood stacked next to trigonometry and Spanish school books.

Giles, the provident man he was, presented Faith with the Slayer Handbook he held in reserve. Although Faith's amused raised eyebrow did not quite put his mind at ease, he braved on, attempting to explain her calling and the responsibilities that came with it.

Perhaps not so surprisingly, Faith reacted particularly unenthusiastic, verging almost on open rebellion at being suddenly faced with such unwanted and untimely responsibilities. She was, after all, only fifteen. Although you'd be hard pressed to have her admit to her young age, since she spent uncountable hours in front of the mirror trying to hide it.

As she opened the book Giles had offered to her though, it didn't take her long to discern the big gaping mistake that already showed itself on the first page. According to the handbook, there was only one chosen. Only one slayer.

But then, what about Buffy?

If the chosen one was now suddenly the chosen two, Faith argued, then the book was flawed. As were these 'prophecies'. Her initial distrust about the whole thing had suddenly found new ground to grow upon. So unless they could present her with some sort of explanation for the oddity that was her and Buffy, she explained to the strange group, she might find it distinctly difficult to believe much of any of their far-fetched stories.

The doubts she voiced was met only with troubled looks, for in truth, they could not account for the existence of two slayers.

Giles on his part felt his frustration growing at not being able to answer the questions that really mattered. Witch after witch had been asked to examine and identify Faith, under the feisty girl's loud objections. But the same conclusions were made time and time again; the girl was a slayer. Pure and true.

Giles made innumerable calls over the next several days; shamans, oracles, witches, mystics and many more were questioned by the persistent Watcher but none could put his mind at ease. All were perplexed by the very notion of two slayers. It drove Giles to endless nights of ancient texts and scrolls. The girls had known each other, closely, before they were slayers, that _had_ to mean something. Didn't it?

He didn't know. So he read on, drinking cup after cup of his favorite tea, which didn't seem to relax him as it usually did.

Faith was also reasonably perturbed by the strange and inexplicable reality she had found herself in. She conceded that Buffy was just as, if not more, concerned as she was. The blonde wasn't exactly very adept at hiding her emotions. But not only did Faith struggle with her as of yet unofficial calling, she also struggled with the many conflicting memories she had of Sunnydale. The kind and always welcoming Mrs. Summers had insisted that Faith stay with her and Buffy and Faith could not find it in her heart to decline, although a small part of her felt hesitant about the offer.

She felt a pang of something painful deep in her chest every time she returned to the Summers home and passed by the house she used to inhabit. She refused to look, that would mean she still cared, but every time she told herself she didn't, she felt a bitter self-deprecating smile form on her lips. She may tell herself she didn't care, but the pain in her chest told her different.

Faith felt uncomfortable to be welcomed with such hospitality in Buffy's home, she even received her own room. She was grateful, although she sometimes had difficulty expressing it, but she was not used to having Joyce dote and fuss for her and the caring attention sometimes felt painfully alien.

Buffy however, seemed to have a strange knack for picking up when Faith was feeling especially nervous or uncomfortable and mostly managed to diffuse Faith's growing anxiety by simply holding her hand under the table at dinner. Or sometimes, maybe slightly less subtle, by grabbing Faith and escaping with her to some secluded area. Where there were no mothers hovering around or watchers asking pesky questions.

Strangely enough, or perhaps not, they usually found themselves in a cemetery. If anything, Faith had to admit she did enjoy the nightly patrols with Buffy. Not only did she find she loved the slaying of vampires, she also found that her connection with Buffy was still very much intact, if not stronger, and the girls felt almost as they did so many years ago. Completely at ease yet also completely exhilarated around each other.

Buffy found herself growing very open very fast, blurting out her deepest fears and hopes without thought. She berated herself after every time but was put at ease by the fact that Faith seemed an attentive listener when Buffy did reveal strong personal issues. Although the brunette at times seemed inattentive and disinterested, Buffy found that most of Faith's perhaps seemingly crude and blunt behavior was simply part of her bravado. A show which Buffy could quite easily see through and usually ignored.

It was around a week after Faith had reappeared when the two girls returned home after an abnormally fruitful slay. It was late at night and for a reason that Buffy this time could not pick up, Faith was acting particularly fidgety and uncomfortable. Her behavior was strange to Buffy as Faith distanced herself purposely from Buffy as they entered the kitchen for a snack.

When Faith needed space or felt the need to distance herself from everyone, as well as Buffy, her demeanor was always sedated and brooding. But this time her eyes were flickering from kitchen appliance to the floor, to the table and anywhere else but Buffy. She squirmed slightly in her seat as they silently ate the sandwiches Joyce had made for them. After finishing, they cleared the kitchen and ascended the stairs, whispering their goodnights as they entered their rooms.

Barely thirty seconds after Faith closed the door behind her though, she heard a soft knock and Buffy entered without waiting for an answer.

"Okay, Faith, what's wrong?" Buffy demanded.

Faith hesitated before looking up at the blonde, with an almost fearful look in her eyes. That.. and something else. Something Buffy couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Nothing." Faith shrugged. But then grimaced and turned around. " I dunno, don't you feel weird, B?"

Buffy frowned.

Weird?

No, she didn't think she felt especially weird. But she was worried about Faith's weird behavior though. She approached Faith and put a hand on her back. The brunette flinched and Buffy's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"What do you mean 'weird', Faith?" She asked softly.

She noticed Faith seemed to have some difficult breathing normally and she cupped Faith's cheek with her palm, turning Faith's face towards hers. Instantly, she felt the heat that radiated from Faith's skin and she drew in her breath.

"Faith, you're burning up! What do you mean weird? How do you feel?" She asked again, worried.

Faith swallowed and took a step back.

"Nothing," She insisted. "It's just hot in here, you know?"

"I'll open the window." Buffy offered and immediately did so. She brushed by Faith as she walked towards the closed window and again, Faith flinched as their skin touched.

"Okay." Faith nodded absently.

A cool breeze entered the room and Buffy approached her brunette friend again.

"Are you sure you're okay, Faith?" Buffy leaned forward and inspected Faith closely.

For a moment it seemed as though Faith had stopped breathing.

"Sure." She then choked out, quickly camouflaging it with a small fake cough.

Buffy wasn't entirely convinced but decided to drop the matter for now. The blonde smiled and hugged Faith fondly, nestling her head in Faith's neck. She then tilted her head and kissed the brunette's cheek softly.

"Goodnight, Faith." She whispered although she didn't know why.

They broke away from the hug and looked at each other, both seeming to have some difficulty breathing normally. Faith coughed.

"Goodnight." She smiled weakly.

Faith's first week back in Sunnydale was now fact, and although many other issues needed addressing, Buffy felt quite content with that fact alone.

She smiled to herself as she walked down the hallway to her room, but she then heard a bump, as though something bumped against Faith's bedroom door.

Buffy hesitated as she opened her own door but then just shook her head.

Weird.


	14. Distractions

Author's Note: Yeah I know, I know: Lame. But I'll make up for it some time.

Buffy let her fingers graze across the soft grass in front of her, enjoying the feel of the fresh blades as they brushed between her outstretched fingers. She sighed contentedly and felt almost as if she could purr out of pure pleasure, lying stomach down on the cool ground, her feet swinging lazily back and forth in the air while she allowed her hands to be tickled by the grass.

She yawned happily as she watched Faith just a few feet away, observing the sky on her back. Her hands lay beneath her head and her legs were fully stretched, as if she were basking in the vastness above.

The blonde smiled and stretched her own limbs, tired but happy.

"I think we cleared it." She said as she sat up, hugged her knees and looked around the cemetery.

Faith leaned on her elbows and scanned between the moonlit gravestones and scattered trees.

"I think you're right." She agreed and hopped up swiftly from the ground, glancing at her watch. "Think we're way past curfew too though, B."

The younger girl approached Buffy who was still sitting on the grass and held out her hand.

"Better get back." She told the blonde.

Buffy raised her eyebrows and smirked, allowing Faith to help her up.

"_Better get back._" She mimicked Faith overly exaggerated. "Since when have _you_ cared about curfews?" She teased.

"Careful there, short stuff," Faith narrowed her eyes and grinned almost wolfishly. "wouldn't wanna start something you can't finish." The brunette challenged.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"I know all your weak spots, Faith." She reminded her. "It starts with a T and rhymes with 'nicklish'." She stuck her tongue out triumphantly.

Faith's eyes widened in disbelief.

"You _wouldn't_!"

Buffy raised an eyebrow, asking whether Faith really wanted to take that chance. Faith took a step forward and opened her mouth about to protest but then they both froze. Faith whipped around and Buffy noticed the vampire behind the brunette's shoulder.

"Stray vamp." Buffy grinned.

"Up for dessert?" Faith grinned back in the same predatorlike fashion.

"Always." Buffy answered. "Too bad I saw him first though!" The blonde laughed as she suddenly sped by Faith, rushing towards the vampire in an alarming speed.

Faith only took a moment to gape in shock before she began to race after the sneaky little blonde.

"I thought you'd be over cheating by now, B!" She accused the girl as they both chased after the vampire who by now had noticed them and ran desperately for his life.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again," Buffy called behind her. "You're just a sore loser, Faith!"

She smiled as she heard the girl swear under her breath.

"Meet you at the gates!" The shorter girl called out again, before turning sharply to her left.

Needless to say, the rather panicking, yet surprisingly fast vampire, was easily caught in between two grinning slayers before he even reached the gates. The two girls quickly disposed of the soulless creature and bickered extensively about why Buffy got the kill. They then resumed their way home, still arguing quite vocally, but both feeling quite happy in doing so. The situation needed no further analysis for the moment. But it wouldn't take long any more. It wouldn't take long before one of them had to address the quite inconvenient issue that was nagging at the back of both their minds. To be more precise, it only took 34 hours.

For just two days later, Buffy suddenly felt the need to be pensive.

She sat cross-legged on her bed, her pretty features scrunched up in concentration. The reason for her unusual inactivity stemmed from several issues. But there was one particular issue that stood central in her thoughts.

Faith.

Her return had filled Buffy with a new-found joy bordering very closely to giddiness. The two girls were nearly inseparable and the petite blonde was adamant in spending as much time as she possibly could with her brunette friend. Buffy usually spent their time together in gales of laughter and girlish giggles, at times it even seemed as though they would both revert to their old ways, so many years ago. There was much to catch up on, after all.

But things had changed.

Even she could not admit the changes staring her –rather rudely, she felt- in the face. The way her eyes seemed to wander, for example. Seemed to wander to places… Places they hadn't wandered before. Or perhaps had wandered, but certainly never lingered. There had never been any lingering going on, she was sure. But now there were lingering glances, involuntary smiles, random touches her body had clumsily forgotten to run by her brain for permission, and those exceptionally pleasant tingles along her back.

Buffy shook her head subconsciously as she sat pondering this on her bed. No, not exceptionally pleasant. Inappropriate, that was it. That's what it was. Inappropriate. She nodded, again without realizing. They certainly weren't that pleasant.

A playful knock on her door awoke her from her musings and replaced her deep frown with an almost hopeful look. She recognized that knock.

"B?"

The suddenly nervous blonde sat up and bit her lip. Those cursed involuntary smiles were, after all, very much involuntary.

"Are ya decent? Tell me you're not talking to that pig again." Faith's voice suspiciously asked, hesitating from fully opening the door.

Buffy rolled her eyes and shot Mr Gordo an apologetic glance. How could Faith be so blasé about him? She had, after all, given him to Buffy herself, nine years ago after winning him at a carnival.

"No, I wasn't talking to Mr Gordo right now." The offended blonde responded, stretching her legs out from underneath her and standing up from the bed.

"I don't like the fact that you said 'right now', B." The brunette's warm voice commented as she opened the door slowly.

Buffy sighed, not sure if it was a natural reaction to Faith's teasing, or a natural reaction to her beauty. Either way, Buffy was glad she did, because Faith suddenly smiled fondly at the blonde.

Buffy looked away shyly, instantly cursing herself for doing so. She found it completely unfair that she had no control over these simple things anymore. Certainly she could go two seconds without blushing?

"So what's up?" She managed to ask the amused brunette in a relatively normal tone of voice.

Faith shrugged in a way that Buffy's body found entirely too interesting and the inexplicably nervous blonde pretended to be fascinated with the laces on her sneakers to hide what might be glaringly obvious. She wouldn't know, since her body wasn't precisely following instructions at the moment.

"Nothing much, just got bored." Faith shrugged again, and made her way further into the room, lightly grazing the top of Buffy's drawer with her fingers as she did so. She walked in a way that made Buffy, much to the blonde's dismay, think of a lazy feline. Perhaps a leopard of some sort. Buffy tore her eyes away from Faith's hips and looked her friend in the eye.

The madness had to end.

"I think we need to talk." Buffy stated in a serious tone.

Faith's eyebrows raised in surprise and her lips effortlessly formed a by now patented Faith smirk. The brunette lazily leaned against Buffy's drawer and stretched, jutting out her hips slightly and exposing a perfectly toned stomach.

"So whatcha wanna talk about?"

Buffy frowned.

What _did_ she want to talk about?


End file.
